“Do you know me? Do you really know me? You have opinions about my opinions, about my music, about my clothes, about my body. Some people hate what I wear; some people praise it. Some people use it to shame others; some people use it to shame me.
“So while I feel your stares, your disapproval or your sighs of relief, if I lived by them, I'd never be able to move.
“Would you like me to be smaller? Weaker? Softer? Taller? Would you like me to be quiet? Do my shoulders provoke you? Does my chest? Am I my stomach? My hips? The body I was born with, is it not what you wanted? If what I wear is comfortable, I am not a woman. If I shed the layers, I am a sl*t. Though you've never seen my body, you still judge it and judge me for it. Why?”
We were on some ...